Indulging in Daydreams

jayvikBDSMweek Day 7: Free Day ❤️ Aftercare

Fëanor and mini Curufin “reading” the morning newspaper. ✨📰 Excuse their hair and clothes, they just woke up …

When I found this photo I didn't have time to do this so I just saved the photo with the note. "This is very Curufin and Feanor coded, I have to draw it someday." Today's the day! Yeiiiii!

There is an insidious, quiet violence that asexual people, particularly sex-repulsed aces, are subjected to in relationships. It’s not loud. It doesn’t always look like abuse. Sometimes, it’s dressed up in the language of “compromise”. Sometimes, it’s even endorsed by therapists and relationship “experts.”

But at the root of it is this one idea: That sex is the cornerstone of every valid relationship. That if you don’t want sex, something is wrong with you. That your partner is entitled to sex. That you, as an asexual person, owe it to them because that’s “just how relationships work.”

Asexual people are constantly navigating a world that tells us our love is incomplete unless it includes sex. That our boundaries are just hurdles to be negotiated. And that if we’re not careful, we’ll be the one accused of being selfish or withholding.

And the truth is, this pressure doesn’t only happen in unhealthy relationships. It can exist even in good ones. Even in the ones where your partner is kind and respectful and never once demands anything of you. Even when your partner is loving, patient, supportive—the ideal partner. The pressure doesn’t just vanish because the person next to you is good. Because the pressure isn’t coming from them: it’s coming from the world around you.

So even in the safest relationships, we still carry that fear. That if we say no too often, too permanently, we’ll eventually be left behind—not because our partner is cruel, but because we were never what society told them to want. And that’s what makes the pressure so hard to name, so hard to fight. So easy to internalize.

Then, even the most well-meaning conversations about consent often fail us. Why? Because while people are taught to respect a “no” in the moment, there’s still the underlying assumption that “no” is temporary. That eventually, we’ll change our minds. That if someone is patient, kind, persistent enough—we’ll come around. But some of us don’t. Some of us never want sex. Not now. Not later. Not eventually. And the idea that permanent or indefinite boundaries are abnormal is what pushes so many asexual people into violating their own comfort to meet someone else’s expectations.

It’s a form of slow coercion, cloaked in the language of compromise.

And when asexual people bring this into therapy—when we try to advocate for ourselves—we’re often met with therapists who have internalized the same cultural script. A script that says “sex is a need and part of a healthy relationship”. We’re encouraged to meet halfway.

But “halfway” always seems to mean giving up your boundaries to preserve the relationship.

Where is the room for our needs? For the idea that sex is not an automatic default but a choice, one that should never be coerced—whether overtly or through guilt, shame, or the threat of abandonment?

Too often, asexual people are pressured into saying yes to things we don’t want. Not because we’re comfortable with it. Not because our desires have changed. But because we’re terrified of being left. Because we’ve been taught that we’re the broken one. That we’re the reason the relationship is “failing.”

We are not broken. We are not selfish. And sex is not the sole measure of love, intimacy, or commitment. A relationship without sex is still a real relationship.